


All Our Broken Parts

by MaraudingManaged



Series: LF2020 [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Break Up, Break Up Talk, Drabble, F/M, LoveFest2020, TeamEros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:02:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22757473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraudingManaged/pseuds/MaraudingManaged
Summary: “We couldn’t have. We shouldn’t any longer. We’re just hurting each other and it’s like… it’s like we were somehow meant to be, but then we did it all wrong. And there’s no way to fix that damage now we’ve done it.”
Relationships: Pansy Parkinson/Percy Weasley
Series: LF2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628197
Comments: 12
Kudos: 15
Collections: Love Fest 2020





	All Our Broken Parts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ravenslight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenslight/gifts).



> Here you go, my dear! I hope you enjoy this little drabble. 
> 
> Written for #LF2020 (yay, #TeamEros!) in The Fairest of the Rare - entirely un-beta'd, all mistakes my own.

Her eyes feel so swollen from tears that she wonders if she looks like she’s been punched. 

She certainly feels like it.

He’s packing up his things in meticulous order - shoes first, then his coats, his jumpers, trousers, and finally shirts. He’s even folded his bastard underpants and socks as they float into their own section of the battered old Hogwarts trunk and shrink to fit the available space. 

She hates and loves his diligence in equal measure. 

“I wish you wouldn’t watch, Pansy,” he says, his voice strained from his own distress; and even though his back is to her she knows what his face must look like. Brows drawn, but blue eyes wide in earnest. “Please, can’t you just… Oh, I don’t know. Go to Greengrass’s or something?” 

She’s contemplated it. She’d almost gone twice, in fact, but she has to see this. She has to watch as he actually leaves her flat for good. 

And it  _ is _ for good, she recognises. There is no coming back from this. 

But still she has to try - even if it isn’t going to work, and even if it’s punishment, and even though it’s absolutely pointless now to try. 

“Please, Perce,” she whispers, broken, and she hates the weakness of her words - but she has no strength left to force another argument. “Please don’t go.” 

His wand stills in the air, and he turns to look over his shoulder. 

He is the picture of her own grief. There are old, dried tear tracks on his cheeks, his lips swollen, his lashes damp. There are blueish-black circles under his eyes from hours and hours of missed sleep and stress. His hair is in disarray, his shirt unbuttoned and rolled up to the elbow. Every ounce of his perfect posture is gone, and in its wake absolute hollowness is left. 

He is as broken as she is. Broken from fighting, broken from trying  _ not _ to fight. They are absolutely perfect and entirely wrong for each other in a way that should have balanced, but never seemed to. 

“Maybe we could try harder?” She asks, her eyes sweeping up and down his lean but curiously muscular frame, meeting his eyes as they watch her with the burning intensity she’s always craved but never entirely been on the receiving end of. 

“We’ve tried,” Percy says, and turns to take the few short steps across the room to where she’s leaning against the door. “Oh, Pans, we  _ tried _ . And the trying shattered us as much as the not-trying did.” 

He’s right. He’s right and she fully accepts it, but at the same time she can’t. And then he pulls her into a hug and she clings on for dear life as he rests his chin on the rat’s nest that should have been her sleek, stylish bob. “We - we should’ve…” she sobs into the soft cotton shirt, and he holds her tighter. “We - c-could’ve…” 

“Pansy,” he says, and pushes her back gently to look her in the eyes. “We couldn’t have. We shouldn’t any longer. We’re just hurting each other and it’s like… it’s like we were somehow meant to be, but then we did it all wrong. And there’s no way to fix that damage now we’ve done it.” 

“I know,” she cries, and rests her forehead against his chest as her shoulders shake from the violence of the tears that are ripped from her heaving chest. “I’m - I’m  _ sorry _ .” 

“I know. I’m sorry too,” he whispers. 

There’s nothing left to say as they stand together in the half-empty room, breathing in the heartbreak. Half of the soul in the place is gone now, the warmth, the order Pansy loves so dearly is seeping away moment by moment. 

The only thing left is the broken parts, and she doesn’t know if she can live with it. But she must, because there is nothing else either of them can do now. 

“Go to Daphne’s. I’ll be gone in a few hours,” Percy says. There’s nothing else she can do now, nothing else he can do. 

This time, Pansy nods. “Okay.” 


End file.
